


i wanted to leave him (i needed a reason)

by quakeriders



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Crack Fic turned Serious, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Feyre & The Inner Circle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2020-01-05 07:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18360977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quakeriders/pseuds/quakeriders
Summary: For a second, she wished that it wasn’t Tamlin, who was holding her, working to bring her pleasure, but Rhys.or: in which Tamlin calls Feyre "darling" during sex and she can't help but imagine him being Rhysand instead. Of course, she feels bad and asks her best friends (who happen to be Rhys' best friends, also) if that's considered cheating..





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> there's some explicit feyre/tamlin at the beginning but after that it's pretty much a feysand show!
> 
> also: ppl who follow me on tumblr might have seen my posts talking about this fic... this is what my brain creates when I'm stressed and overworked and really feel like writing something FUN and LIGHT and BREEZY.
> 
> title inspo: getaway car - taylor swift  
> (also don't tell anyone, but feyre might totally end up dumping the tool)

Feyre shivered at the cool air creeping up her legs when the door to the communal bathroom opened. She twisted around to make sure her curtain was firmly closed, but choked on a yelp when it was yanked back suddenly.

"You scared the shit out of me, Tam." She hissed, once she’d recognised the emerald green eyes of her boyfriend and her heart stopped thundering against her ribcage.

He gave her an appreciative once over and licked his lips. Rolling her eyes, Feyre took a step back to allow him to enter. They didn’t live in the same building, so the only reason for him to be here with a towel slung over his shoulders would be her.

She turned her back to him and titled her head back. Her hair was still lathered up with shampoo and if Tamlin was here to have some fun, she might as well put some conditioner in her hair and let it sit for a while.

His hands encircled her waist, pulling her against his chest and Feyre let out a little gasp at the impact. Then, his fingers were moving, one up to cup her breast, while the other slid between her legs.

Feyre let her head drop against Tamlin’s chest, he was hard against her ass and she pushed closer to him. It had been a while since they had time for themselves, ever since classes had gotten more demanding and either of their roommates became reluctant to leave the comfort of their rooms. Feyre hadn’t minded that much, she hadn’t really felt like spending time alone with him, but it seemed that his patience had finally worn out.

And the way his hands roughly gripped her skin told her how truly impatient he was for his release. The two fingers he slid through her center were hard and fast and urged her to come. Feyre’s own hand closed over his and she slowed his movement. She could feel the water growing a little cooler.

She guided his hand, set the pace and angled her neck to allow him access. His lips were hot against her wet skin and she let out a little sigh as he began sucking in her neck.

A spike of heat ran through her and Feyre closed her eyes. She moved her hips slowly, grinding against him and causing him to bite down.

An unbidden thought came to her then.

A flash of an infuriating smirk.

A glint of violet eyes flecked with silver.

She let out a groan that Tamlin understood as encouragement and began kissing up her throat and jaw. The hand that was on her breast, pinched one nipple and pulled on it roughly. Feyre bit down on her bottom lip, swallowing her moan and twisted her face towards his.

She kissed him. Feeling lightheaded and a little breathless, still she kept her eyes closed. Feyre used her free hand to cover his hand on her breast and together, they massaged one then the other breast. Tamlin let out a low chuckle and a thought flashed through Feyre’s mind.

For a second, she wished that it wasn’t Tamlin, who was holding her, working to bring her pleasure, but Rhys.

She tried to pull away from the thought, but her chest tightened at the thought of him. Heat pooled between her legs and she felt Tamlin’s finger moving easier against her now slick skin.

"That’s it, darling." He muttered against her lips and Feyre’s world tilted.

_Darling_.

Whether Tamlin knew it or not, he had fuelled her burning thoughts and now she was in too deep to turn back. And before she could stop herself, she imagined it wasn’t Tamlin, who was holding her, kissing her, touching her. But Rhysand.

Rhys — with his black hair and piercing eyes and that smirk that made her heartbeat stumble.

Rhys — who always looked far too put together for their 8 am class, with his black clothes and his stupidly perfect face.

Rhys — with his teasing and flirting and smirking.

And Feyre let herself.

A moan from deep within her chest worked its way up her throat and she bit down on the lips moving against hers. Her hands urged him to move faster, to slide into her and out and in again and again and again.

She was panting, leaning against the hard chest for support as her legs became unsteady and the water falling onto her chest turned cold.

Her blood roared and she had to break away from the kiss, to breathe. The fingers inside her crooked and Feyre gasped. Her muscles were taut and ready to snap and she was so, so close.

"Please." Feyre gasped.

And the thought of Rhys’ hands inside her was her undoing.

She came hard and fast and the moans tore from her throat violently and she was shaking.

Slowly, Feyre opened her eyes and her raging thoughts went silent as she met emerald green eyes instead of violet ones.

—

Feyre went through the motions for the next couple of hours.

She closed her eyes for the rest of the shower, barely registering Tamlin and what he was doing and only remembered to wash out the conditioner when he was already out of the stall with the towel wrapped around his hips.

He left for the library afterwards, promising to call her later and she just nodded and went back to her room.

For the next hours, Feyre tried not to think. At all.

She was on her bed, text books and her notes strewn around her and chewed on her favourite pen.

Something cold and vicious clawed at her chest and every now and then, she found herself groaning at what she had done.

By the time her roommate came back, Feyre was lying on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling and avoided looking at anything that could drive her thoughts towards _him_.

"You don’t look like someone whose been thoroughly fucked in the showers today." Her roommate remarked in a matter-of-fact voice as she dropped onto her own bed.

Feyre sat up, head spinning at the sudden movement and fixed her eyes on Mor. "What?" She hissed, eyes wide. Then she amended, "Who?"

But Mor was already grinning like a cat, tilting her head. "Cassian. Poor bastard, looked really heartbroken about it, too. Said something about how he should be the one scarring everyone by having loud sex in the showers not some innocent freshman."

Feyre groaned and buried her face in her hands. "How did he even know it was me? It could have been anyone on this floor."

Mor chuckled. "Your boyfriend isn’t very discreet, you know?"

Feyre let herself fall back against the mattress and sighed dramatically. "I’m assuming Cassian told everyone within seconds?"

"Yep." Mor replied, popping the _p_. At Feyre’s pained little noise, Mor went on. "It’s nothing to be ashamed about, Feyre. Don’t beat yourself up over it. From what Cass told me, it sounded like you had fun. That’s what matters."

Feyre made a noncommittal noise. She liked her roommate and her nosy friends well enough. Well, most of them. She had liked Mor from the moment the blonde had stormed into their room and had hugged her and proclaimed that she was her new best friend. And she had liked Cassian and Azriel, who always seemed to know where Mor would be and showed up. Cassian was funny if not a little _too_ funny at times. Azriel was— different, quiet but in a good way and Feyre quickly realised that he was easy to talk to once he warmed up to people.

And then there was Rhysand.

She groaned again at the thought of him.

He was Mor’s cousin and probably the most annoying person Feyre had ever had the displeasure to meet. He had this way of looking at her, that made Feyre feel like he was reading her thoughts. And if that stupid smirk of his didn’t sometimes make her feel lightheaded, she’d be lying.

Rhysand was a prick. _And_ Feyre had a boyfriend.

Mor seemed to think that her groan was still about the shower situation and sat down next to her on the bed. Her hand patted Feyre’s thigh gently. "Why don’t we go out and have a few drinks? I promise that things will stop looking so bleak once you’re drunk."

Feyre let out a small laugh and found herself nodding. "Yeah, let’s go."

She didn’t feel like studying. Hadn’t really made any progress in the last couple of hours and she knew for certain that if she tried to fall asleep without at least a light buzz, she would toss and turn for hours.

So, Feyre let her roommate drag her to Mor’s favourite place in the city. It wasn’t far from campus and the discount for students was a huge plus. Rita’s was where Mor spent most her weekends. And some of her weeknights, too.

—

Of course.

Of course, Cassian and Azriel would show up before Feyre had taken her second sip of her drink.

Azriel slipped into the booth with a small nod at them, but Cassian made a spectacle out of his greeting. Like he did out of everything.

"Feyre Archeron." He said, his voice willed with a mocking disapproval. "Don’t you think it is highly inappropriate for a lady like you to have hot steamy sex in a communal bathroom in the middle of the day?"

Feyre just rolled her eyes and sipped from her drink. Mor was right, she had no reason to be ashamed. She had seen Cassian with his tongue in some girls throat far too many times to count and she wouldn’t let him tease her for having sex with her boyfriend.

Still, a thought kept eating away at her.

"Fuck off, Cassian." Feyre said, smirking around the straw. "You’re just jealous because you’ve never made a girl make those sounds before."

Mor hollered at that and the corner’s of Azriel’s lips tugged up.

Cassian’s reaction was priceless. His mouth fell open in shock, even as his hazel eyes danced with amusement. "Oh Feyre darling," He cooed as he slid into the booth next to her. Feyre noted the use of Rhys’ favoured nickname for her and fought her cringe. Cassian leaned closer and with a smirk that bordered on being seductive, whispered, "You have no idea about the things I can do to a woman."

"Oh, please." Mor sighed and reached across the table to shove him away from Feyre. "As someone who has witnessed what you can do, I have to disagree vehemently."

Cassian’s eyebrows rose so high they almost disappeared beneath his shaggy hair. "You don’t count." He grumbled, leaning back in the seat and shaking his head in amusement. "We were far too young and well, turns out you’re playing for the other team."

Feyre shook her head slightly and caught Azriel doing the same. When Cassian and Mor got into one of their legendary bickering matches, it would take them hours to shut up. Feyre took another large gulp from her drink and felt the heat spread in her stomach. Good, she thought and leaned back in her seat to watch the two of them hash it out.

At least it would steer the attention away from her.

Mor shot Cassian a look that made Feyre grin before the blonde even spoke her next words. "Maybe your subpar lovemaking skills were the reason I swore off guys forever?"

Cassian balked at that. "Bullshit. It was because you discovered the taste of—"

"I think that’s enough for now." Azriel cut in smoothly, noting the dangerous glint in Mor’s eyes.

It was no secret that Mor was gay, but it seemed like the discussion of the drunken night that Cassian and Mor had shared way back in high school was one of their favourite way to tease and rile each other up.

Mor had told Feyre about how she’d been crushing on her best friend for years and had tried to get over it by getting it on with the first guy that was available. Which turned out to be Cassian.

And once Mor had started dating her best friend Vivianne's sister in senior year, Cassian hadn’t been able to let go of the blow to his ego.

And Cassian had told Feyre about the other guys in their school, who had talked about how Cassian had managed to turn the hottest girl in school away from guys for good.

Azriel had been the one to tell Feyre that Cassian had punched each and every one of those guys. And how he had been suspended from the football team because of it. And how Mor had convinced the school to let him back in by telling their principal about everything.

So, while both of them glared at each other now, Feyre knew that they truly did love each other. They were a family. And acted more like siblings than Feyre’s own did with her.

And in the last few months, they had sort of adopted Feyre into this family of theirs.

—

After a couple more drinks, all of them were well on their way to being properly drunk and Feyre had lost the ability to stop her thoughts from wandering. Cassian and Mor were on the dance floor, dancing and giggling and occasionally challenging the other to do a stupid dance move.

Feyre couldn’t hold back anymore and the question burst from her. "Where’s Rhys?"

Azriel had been lifting his drink to his lips but froze at her question. His eyes slid to her and fixed her with a look that made Feyre want to squirm. "He’s studying." Azriel replied and sipped from his drink.

Feyre looked away.

She didn’t want to know what Azriel was thinking or presuming to know. She knew that he was observant, but he couldn’t know why she had asked.

Feyre sighed and kept drinking.

Mor stumbled back to their booth and took Feyre’s drink from her and drowned it. "Ugh, my feet are killing me." She said dramatically and slipped into the booth next to Feyre.

Her friend leaned against her shoulder and let out a long, happy sigh.

Feyre looked at her and smiled, too.

Cassian came back with a new round of drinks for all of them.

And she must have truly been drunk, because another question escaped her mouth before she could stop herself.

"Is it cheating when it’s just in your head?"

All three of them looked at her. Mor and Cassian were frowning, but Azriel merely looked faintly amused.

"What?" Mor asked, sitting up and reaching for her drink.

"Yeah, we need you to be more specific." Cassian added.

Feyre sighed and reached for a drink as well. "Is it cheating," She began, looking at her drink and speaking slowly. "If you’re imagining it’s someone else but your significant other that’s with you?"

Mor bit her lip. Azriel shrugged as if to say that he had no opinion on the matter, but Cassian’s eyes glinted. "Been thinking about me today, Feyre?"

"No." Feyre scoffed and glowered at him. "But imagine I had been thinking about someone else today, would that be cheating?"

"Hey guys." Someone said, stopping before their booth.

This was a joke. A cruel joke.

Because without any of them realising, the object of her unruly imagination had come to stand before their booth.

Feyre’s eyes slid to him and her heart beat stumbled at the sight.

_ Rhysand. _


	2. Chapter 2

He was dressed in a pair of dark jeans, a black shirt and his hair was messy as if he’s been running his hands through them.

She blindly reached for her drink and drank deeply. _Fuck_.

"Rhys!" Mor shouted, giggling at the sight of him. "You look terrible."

Her cousin rolled his eyes and sat down next to her. Feyre could feel his eyes sweep over her and she forced her eyes to stay on the table.

"What are you guys talking about?" Rhys asked as he settled himself into the booth and reached for Mor’s drink. Mor made a sound of protest, but Rhys was already drinking.

"Feyre just asked us a very interesting question." Cassian said and Feyre glared at him. Oh, she should have just kept her mouth shut. There was no way Cassian would let the subject drop, not without her telling him to drop it. And if she did, he would put the pieces together. They all would.

Fuck.

Rhys made a sound that urged Cassian to go on and Feyre’s toes curled at the sound. She almost closed her eyes, but chided herself immediately. She had a boyfriend for god’s sake. She shouldn’t react to any other guy like this. Especially not Rhys.

And Cassian, damn him, spoke again. "She asked us if it was cheating if one thought about someone else while getting thoroughly fucked by their boyfriend in a communal shower in the middle of the day."

"Nice, Cassian." Feyre growled. And at the same time Mor groaned.

But her traitorous eyes slid to Rhys in time to watch his eyes widen and turn to her. Their gazes met and Feyre could have sworn that he could see right through her.

"And then," Cassian continued, "I asked her if it was me, who she imagined was the one to fuck her instead of her lovely boyfriend."

"Cassian." Azriel murmured in warning.

But Feyre just rolled her eyes. "Maybe in your dreams, Cassian."

Cassian winked at her and Feyre found herself chuckling. Then he added, "Well, if you wanna know my opinion, I’d say no. What happens in your head is your business."

Mor snorted. Of course, she would be the first to disagree with him. "I wouldn’t say it’s cheating." She said carefully, looking far more sober than she’d done a couple minutes ago. "But, if it’s something serious, then maybe you think about what those thoughts mean."

Feyre sighed. And somehow she found herself looking at Rhys. He seemed taken aback, his eyes unreadable and that smirk she  ~~loved~~ hated no where in sight.

"I have to agree with Mor." He said finally.

She sighed. Deeply. How the hell had she ended up here? Talking to Rhys of all people about thinking about him during sex.

Feyre fell back against the booth and groaned. "I’m too drunk for this." She muttered more to herself than anyone.

"So, who was this mystery guy?"

She’d expected the question from Cassian. Mor, even. But from Azriel? She looked at him, mouth open. "Et tu, Brute?" She whispered and he just shrugged, grinning. "I’m curious. And drunk."

"Why would you assume it was a guy." Mor chimed in, winking at Cassian. "Maybe Feyre was thinking about dear old moi."

Feyre snorted. "No, Mor. It wasn’t you, either."

And again, it was Azriel who surprised her. His eyebrows rose and with a teasing grin, he pointed at his chest. "Me?"

Now, Feyre was laughing. She shook her head. "You guys are the worst."

They all laughed.

And then, a terrible silence fell as everyone waited for the only other person in the booth to pose the question.

Dread coursed through her body and Feyre wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. And when a few more beats of silence passed, Feyre felt her cheeks heat. Rhys had always been quick to tease her, to make suggestive comments. If he wasn’t making them now, he might suspect, might even know.

Oh, fuck.

Cassian, either not realising the awkward pause or just because he was an asshole, finally posed the question. "Ugh, please don’t tell me it was Rhys."

Feyre let out a chocked laugh. "God, no."

It sounded fake. So, fake that she was surprised when Cassian’s shoulders slumped and Mor let out a small grunt. But Azriel avoided her gaze and Feyre refused to look at Rhys.

"I want to dance." Mor said and Feyre was grateful for the change in topic. "Who’s joining me?"

Of course, Cassian was the first to jump out. And Rhys only rose long enough for Mor to get out and then sat back down. "You guys have been here for the last three hours, I need to catch up." He said, holding up the drink.

Azriel joined the other two and Feyre resisted the urge to grab him by the arm and pull him back into the booth.

She didn’t feel like dancing, but she didn’t want to be alone with Rhys either.

Or maybe she wanted it, but was scared.

She had a freaking boyfriend.

So, Feyre avoided looking at him for a long while as they sat alone and drank.

"Sorry about that." Rhys said finally and she dragged her eyes to him.

His finger was ghosting over the rim of his glass and Feyre tried to block out the memory of how she’d imagined that finger inside of her.

"What?" She asked and even to her own ears, she sounded defeated.

"You know." He said, shrugging slightly. She was faintly aware that he seemed nervous, but something about his assumptions made her mad.

Finally, she met his eyes and asked sharply. "What?"

And Rhys was the one, who didn’t meet her eyes then. "Cassian is— well, you know how he is. And it’s okay, it doesn’t—"

"Stop." Feyre said, her voice hard. "Whatever you’re thinking, just stop."

He looked up then. Their eyes met and Feyre could have sworn electricity crackled between them. It just made her more angry.

"You’re so full of yourself." She spat out, leaning forward. "You really think that it was you?"

"Well—" Rhys began, but stopped.

Feyre couldn’t do this. "Wow. Whenever I think you can’t get more conceited, you manage to prove me wrong."

Rhys licked his lips and something in his eyes sparked. Gone was the nervous flicker, replaced by that look that always succeeded in riling her up.

"You are a terrible liar, Feyre darling." He purred and Feyre saw red.

"I’m not your darling." She bit back.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Fuck you."

He smirked at her then, eyes dancing. "Is that an offer?"

Feyre got up, her legs shaky and her head spinning. But she was too angry to care. "Tell Mor, I’m going home." She spat and made her way towards the exit.

Fuck Rhys and his fucking smirks and his fucking ego.

—

She barely made it outside before a strong hand wrapped around her wrist. "Feyre, wait."

She spun around, the hand falling away and she found Rhys not a step away from her. "What?" She snapped, forced to tilt her head back to look into his face.

"I’m sorry." He said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn’t mean to upset you, I was just teasing."

Feyre crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah well, I’m not in the mood."

"Look, I’m really sorry." Rhys said again and his eyes were wide and honest and Feyre believed him. "I shouldn’t have assumed—"

Feyre let out a groan. "Oh my god, you’re so fucking stupid."

He frowned. "I— I really don’t know what to say." And he looked like it.

And a small part of her realised that this had nothing to do with him. She was angry at herself, but letting it out on him. She dropped her hands and sighed. "You don’t have to say anything. I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything and I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It’s me who’s to blame. So, I’m sorry for yelling and for—" She gestured wildly at his body and felt herself flush.

He blinked. "Wait. So, it was me?"

Feyre threw her hands into the air between them and let out a groan. "Oh my god, let’s please just stop talking about this, okay?"

But Feyre could see the corners of his mouth tugging up and instead of getting angry, she felt her own lips fighting off a smile.

They stood like that for a while, eyes fixed on each other, lips fighting to break into smiles. But slowly, his eyes turned serious, searing. "Why me?"

Feyre swallowed and licked her lips. "You’re going to make me suffer, aren’t you?"

Rhys shrugged and despite the fire in his eyes, he smirked. "I think, I deserve to know."

Her own gaze hardened. And she looked away. "It was an accident." It sounded more like a question and Rhys slid his hands into his pockets, tilting his head. "Oh?"

Feyre crossed her arms again. And because she was drunk and Rhys wouldn’t drop it, she spoke. "He called me darling and you know—"

He chuckled. A low, dark thing that sent a line of fire down her spine.

"I need to go." She said suddenly and he must have seen the change in her, because he took a step back, offering her one of those smirks. "I would offer to walk you home, but I’m honestly afraid you would try and take advantage of me."

"Ha ha." Feyre said without a hint of amusement.

But she didn’t move. She couldn’t bring herself to walk away.

Instead her traitorous eyes lowered to his lips.

"Who’s the one making the other suffer now?" He asked, trying and failing to sound amused. There was something like hunger in his eyes and Feyre’s insides burned. She wanted to close the distance between them, wanted to pull his face down to hers, wanted to press her lips against him and kiss him until they were both breathless.

Instead of doing any of that, she whispered, "I have a boyfriend."

"I know." Rhys replied, his eyes still on her lips.

Maybe the universe or some god out there, did have a wicked sense of humor, because said boyfriend choose that moment to finally call her.

Feyre reluctantly pulled her phone out of her pocket and with her eyes still locked with his searing gaze, she answered the call.

"Where the hell are you?" Tamlin hissed and Feyre felt like a bucket of ice cold water was splashed over her. Finally, Rhys blinked and Feyre adjusted the volume on her phone. She didn’t need him to listen to this.

"I’m out with Mor and the others." Feyre replied.

"Have you been drinking?"

"Yeah." Feyre replied, not able to keep the ire off her voice. "What’s the big deal?"

"I’ve told you a hundred times, that I don’t want you to drink when I’m not around. Especially not when you are with them." She heard the sound of his car being started and rolled her eyes.

She met Rhys’ eyes and at the slight arch of his eyebrow, she just shook her head.

"Where are you? I’m picking you up." Tamlin said.

"Rita’s." Feyre said, in defeat.

"I’ll be there in five minutes." He hung up without waiting for her reply and Feyre slid her phone back into her pocket. She felt her shoulders slump and she wished that Rhys would stop looking at her like that.

"Do you love him?" His voice was carefully blank and Feyre didn’t think she’d ever heard him sound so emotionless.

She swallowed again. Closing her eyes, Feyre raked her hands through her hair. "Yes. I mean, I fell in love with him. No, I mean I do love him. I— it’s just—"

Rhys’ jaw clenched and he asked, "Are you happy with him? With what you guys have?"

"I’m too drunk to answer that, Rhys." Feyre whispered. But his question had struck a cord. She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud, but drunk or not, she could at least admit to herself that she wasn’t happy. Hadn’t been happy for a while now.

It felt like a weight sat on her chest constantly. And the only time it lifted was when she was away from her boyfriend.

She shook her head and sighed deeply. "You should go back inside. He would freak if he saw us alone together."

Rhys gave her a small nod and pursed his lips. "You deserve to be happy, Feyre."

And with that, he turned and went back to his friends. Everything in her wanted to follow him. She wanted to sit between Cassian and Mor and listen to them bicker for hours on end. She wanted to gossip with Azriel. Or wanted to look up to find Rhys already looking at her with those violet eyes.

She wanted to be with them.

—

Tamlin’s car pulled up beside her and the passenger side window rolled down. "Get in." He said and Feyre almost bolted.

But she slid into the seat and buckled herself in.

"You’re drunk." He noted as he started driving.

"No shit, Sherlock." Feyre retorted, letting her head fall back against the seat.

"Don’t be cheeky, Feyre."

Feyre snorted. It was an ugly sound and Tamlin’s knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. "Sorry, grandpa."

He slammed the brakes so hard, that the seatbelt cut into Feyre’s collarbone. "What the fuck, Tamlin?"

But he was already leaning towards her, eyes glazed with fury, cheeks flushed. "For once in your life, just shut the hell up, Feyre."

They had barely managed to round the first corner and were already at each others throats. Feyre was done. Not because of Rhys or what happened in the shower. She was done with Tamlin. She couldn’t do this anymore.

Her whole life, she had worked her ass off to please her family. Her father, her sisters. And then she’d finally gotten to college, where she could finally be free and here she was. Being yelled at for having a night out with friends and being snarky.

She was done.

"I’m not your kid, Tamlin." She snapped, unbuckling her seatbelt. "I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to do this anymore. You and I? We’re done." She stumbled out of the car and began walking towards her dorms.

But of course, Tamlin wouldn’t just leave her be. Instead, he jumped out of the car, yanked her by the arm and began screaming in her face. "Get back in the car. You’re fucking drunk! You don’t know what you’re saying."

She pulled back, stumbling slightly but he didn’t let go. "Let go of me."

People were starting to watch them and Tamlin seemed to realise. Slowly, he relaxed his grip and talked in a quieter voice. "Just get back in the damn car. I’ll take you home."

"I can _walk_ home, thank you very much." Feyre snapped and finally pulled herself free. "If you try to stop me, I’ll scream."

He glowered at her, but Feyre just turned around and left.

It was funny how easy walking away from him was.

—

Mor had returned hours later, finding Feyre lying in her bed, eyes closed and feigning sleep.

Her roommate had fallen face first into her bed and had started snoring softly almost at once. Smiling slightly, Feyre had gotten up and pulled Mor’s blanket from under her and tucked her in tightly. Then, she had gotten back into her own bed and tried to fall asleep as well.

Feyre’s mind couldn’t stop jumping from one wild thought to the other. Rhys. Tamlin. Tamlin. Rhys.

She could feel their phantom touch on her arm. Rhys’ finger wrapping around her wrist softly to tug her back and falling away almost instantly. And Tamlin’s fingers gripping her tightly and unwilling to let go even when she demanded that he did so.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a different sort of morning after.
> 
> I was determined to make this into a three parter, but this story has a mind of its own... so, you'll get at least 2 more chapters of this. expect A LOT of feyre x inner circle (mostly, mor and cassian) friendship moments, also some mutual pining feysand stuff

Feyre woke up to a pounding headache and one thought ringing clearly in her mind.

_She broke up with him._

And she did not regret it.

And it wasn’t because of Rhys either. Yes, she was attracted to him, despite his arrogance and flirting and everything. But, she had also been so profoundly unhappy with Tamlin for such a long time, that she had only needed to see it. Needed to see just how badly Tamlin had been treating her.

She wouldn’t just run off to the next guy. She wouldn’t be that girl, who couldn’t live her life without a guy in it. No, this break up was for herself. Not for whatever it was between her and Rhysand. If there was even such a thing.

Maybe, it was just lust. Maybe, all they craved from each other was in fact sex. But, Feyre could push that urge down. Ignore the way her heartbeat went wild at the sight of him. She could ignore his intense eyes and alluring scent.

She could do that.

And she would.

—

Mor woke up hours later to find Feyre on her stomach with her nose in a text book. Unlike the day before, Feyre had actually managed to make a dent in her mountain of work and gave her friend a dazzling smile.

Mor just groaned and pressed her face into her pillow. "I think I’m dying."

"There’s coffee." Feyre told her in a chipper voice.

Her roommate lifted her head, frowning. "Why do you look so perky?"

Feyre shrugged, turning to the page. "Oh, it’s a beautiful day. I finished two assignments before noon." She twisted to her side, looking at Mor’s tousled hair and smiled brightly. " _And_ … I broke up with Tamlin."

Mor let out a shriek and then groaned at her own loud voice. Rubbing at her temple, she slowly sat up. "You did what?" She asked in a quieter voice, her lips pulling into a feral smirk.

Feyre sat up as well and grinned at her. "I broke up with him."

"For good?" Mor asked. She was no stranger to their fights. To either Feyre or Tamlin getting so mad that they would stop talking for days, until that is they finally made up again. With loud, obnoxious sex.

"For good." Feyre nodded and felt that weight lift off her chest. For good.

Mor was speechless for once and Feyre went back to her reading. The two girls were silent for a while. Feyre guessed that Mor’s head must be pouring horribly and the news she had just given her hadn’t been any help.

Finally, Mor said, "We need to celebrate."

"Uh, no." Feyre shook her head. "I’m not going drinking with you again. I might look all happy, but my head is killing me, too."

"Brunch, then." Mor suggested, pouting slightly. "And maybe one or two mimosas. You finally dumped his dumb ass, I can’t just let that slide. We _need_ to celebrate."

Feyre rolled her eyes, but she had to agree with her friend. Mor had always been very vocal about her dislike of Tamlin. And for the past couple of weeks, Feyre had started to see her point.

"Fine. Brunch. And one mimosa each. At most." Feyre grumbled, unable to hide her grin.

—

They did not stick to one mimosa. Not even close.

As they ate their body weight in skewers of tiny pancakes and fruit dipped in lots and lots of chocolate, they kept sipping on cool mimosas and talking about anything but the past day.

Mor told her about the girl in her literature class. The cute, shy one with glasses and brown hair that ended in pink tips and a smile so sweet that Mor would gladly give up all this food to taste her.

Feyre rolled her eyes at her friends antics, but kept up a steady stream of questions, wondering who exactly this girl was to have Mor fall so hard for her.

"She has the cutest name, Fey." Mor sighed, drowning her maybe sixth mimosa and biting into a strawberry and dragging it off the skewer. "Andromache. I mean, it’s old fashioned, but it sounds lovely."

"Mor." Feyre said, hiding her amusement. "You’re named after an ancient goddess queen whatever, you should be the last person to call someone’s name old fashioned."

Mor swallowed her mouthful and stuck out her tongue at her. "At least her name isn’t terrible. And fits her. You two have to meet."

Feyre nodded and went back to devouring her own skewer.

Mor’s phone was on the table between them and it buzzed, causing both of their eyes to flash towards the screen.

Feyre’s stomach did a weird backflip at the name and she quickly averted her eyes. Suddenly, she was feeling queasy and wanted to sink further into her plush armchair and hide from Mor’s watchful eyes. For Mor had taken a quick glance at the screen, then at Feyre and now was raising one eyebrow in silent question _and_ amusement.

Damn her and her cousin.

Mor picked up her phone to read the message and after biting her lip thoroughly for a few heartbeats in which Feyre tried to look at anything but her friend, Mor finally spoke.

"The boys are finally awake. They’re asking if we want company."

Her tone was carefully neutral and Feyre couldn’t help but sneak a glance at her. "What did you say?"

Mor gave her a knowing smirk. "I haven’t replied. Yet."

Feyre sighed. "Stop looking at me like that." She began and then with another, heavier sigh, Feyre added. "Tell them to get their asses over here."

Mor’s smile was as bright as the sun as she typed her quick reply.

After a couple more messages, Mor placed her phone back on the table and folded her arms over her stomach. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Feyre blindly reached for her mimosa and drowned it. "About what?" Her tone was a little sharper than she had intended and Mor cringed a bit.

"About—" Mor tried to make her shrug seem nonchalant and failed miserably. Subtlety wasn’t something neither Mor nor Cassian had ever mastered. "Whatever happened yesterday."

The waitress approached their table and asked if they wanted a refill and both girls nodded and thanked the girl as she took their empty flutes. After that, Feyre couldn’t put off answering any longer.

The girls had taken off their shoes almost immediately after arriving and Feyre now pulled both her feet up and curled them beneath her body. "There’s nothing to talk about."

Mor just fixed her with that look of hers that seemed to scream _bullshit_.

Feyre sighed again and gave her friend a tentative smile. "Your cousin is a busybody _and_ shameless flirt. Tamlin has the worst timing _and_ temper. That’s it."

"That’s it?" Mor asked, her voice a couple octaves higher now. "You ask us if thinking about _someone_ , _"_ She made quotes with her fingers at that word, telling Feyre that she knew exactly who that someone had been. "Then the two of you head outside and the next thing I see is Rhys coming back inside, looking like someone kicked him in the balls and I wake up to you telling me that you dumped Tamlin’s sorry ass. I really don’t think your explanation covers everything that happened."

Feyre barked out a small laugh and leaned her head against the cushions. "I suppose, you’re right."

At the pointed silence, Feyre looked back at her friend and almost whispered, "I don’t know, Mor. I haven’t been happy with Tamlin for a while, as you very well know, since you’ve been very vocal about it. And maybe, I just needed a wake up call."

"That call being Rhys?" Mor asked, in that hopeful voice that told Feyre that her friend would love being playing the matchmaker at last.

Feyre shrugged. "I don’t know. He played a part in it, but I need time for myself. To figure out what I want."

Mor’s expression shifted immediately and somehow Feyre knew that if Rhys or anyone for that matter decided to push her before she was ready, Mor would bite off their heads for trying. But Feyre also knew that Rhys wouldn’t.

At that thought, something warm and soothing rose up in her chest and she couldn’t help but smile a little. She didn’t deserve people like them in her life. People, she knew would respect her choice and would fight anyone who would try and do otherwise.

"I love you, Mor." Feyre told her friend and blinked back her tears.

The boys choose that moment to appear before them.

"What about me?" Cassian asked, his hair pulled into a messy bun atop his head and eyes still bleary from their night out. But his smirk was wide awake and told her that he was ready to play.

Feyre let out a small laugh, trying and failing to hide her teary eyes. "Yeah, I love you, too, you big, tactless oaf."

Cassian placed a hand over his heart, fluttering his eyelashes. "My, my, what a charmer." He crooned and Mor snorted.

Feyre let her eyes sweep over them. Cassian, wearing a dark hoodie and sweatpants, Azriel looking equally comfortable but a little more put together. Only Rhys was actually wearing jeans and a sweater, that wouldn’t seem out of place at a fashion show.

Mor and herself had barely managed to throw on leggings and something oversized and comfortable. But leave it to Rhys to show up with his hair impeccable and his eyes bright and irresistible.

The guys dragged over armchairs from the surrounding tables and Feyre thought that the staff might have definitely protested at them, but Sevenda was a family friend of Rhys and Mor and she loved when they came over.

Which was why Mor had convinced Feyre that taking off their shoes and getting comfortable was perfectly fine. And when Sevenda had offered them blankets on a particularly cold day, Feyre had finally given in.

The waitress returned with their mimosa’s in time to take the guys orders.

Of course, Cassian ordered half the menu and while waiting for his own food, he reached for Mor’s plate and stole a couple bites. That set them off in a bickering match, which Feyre couldn’t really pay attention to, because somehow, Rhys had ended up sitting beside her and fixed her with a heavy, inescapable gaze.

"How are you?" He asked, when she finally collected herself enough to meet his gaze.

She shrugged, debating whether she should just tell them all that Tamlin and her were done or tell him later, when it was unlikely that Cassian would make an equally big deal out of it.

She decided that she didn’t care, not really. Breaking up with Tamlin had made her free like she hadn’t in a while and she didn’t want to feel the heaviness of not telling them on her chest.

"I’m fine." Feyre replied and she avoided his eyes, when she spoke in a slightly louder voice. "I broke up with Tamlin last night."

From the corner of her eyes, she saw surprise flash over his features. Surprise and.. something else.

"Why?" It was Cassian, who asked. Turning away from Mor and her finger that was digging into his chest threateningly.

"Because he’s an asshole." Feyre replied, her voice even.

Cassian smirked. "We know that already. But what made you finally see that?"

Feyre shrugged. She wasn’t mad at Cassian for asking. They had talked about Tamlin and how Cassian really disliked him too many times for her to be mad at his questions. She had always defended Tamlin, always told Cassian and the others that they didn’t know him like she did.

"They got into a fight, a couple blocks away from Rita’s." Azriel said, his face blank but Feyre could see a spark of anger in his eyes.

She raised her eyebrow at him in question. Azriel just shrugged, "I heard someone talking about it on our way over here."

"You didn’t tell me about that." Mor said, her voice accusatory.

Feyre picked up her mimosa and drank deeply. "There’s nothing to tell. I didn’t tell him that we were going out. He got pissed at me being drunk and when I tried to leave, he tried to stop me."

All of them looked positively murderous at that. 

But Feyre just shrugged. "So, I told him that I’m done and left."

Cassian was the first one to speak. "Want me to rip off his balls?"

Feyre choked on a laugh, but shook her head. "He’s not worth the effort."

—

She could feel his attention on her for the rest of their meal.

Even as he talked with the others, she could feel him carefully studying her.

She guessed, that she was equally attuned to him if she could feel where his attention were.

So, she tried to make conversation with Azriel because Mor and Cassian had gone back to their banter, arguing about who would last longer doing a headstand.

She was feeling pleasantly buzzed, not remembering why she had told Mor that they should stick to a single mimosa, when they finally left Sevenda’s and made their way back to campus.

For once, his attention was on someone else.

He was walking a couple steps ahead of her, listening to both Mor and Cassian’s arguments, playing the judge in their newest hypothetical challenge. But the moment Feyre reached out and placed a hand on his arm, all of his attention was on her.

The corner of his mouth tugged up in a small smile and he lifted a brown in silent question.

She returned his half-smile and asked softly, "Can we talk?"

He fell back into step beside her and Azriel immediately slipped into the new spot between Mor and Cassian. Sometimes they didn’t give Azriel enough credit for how attuned he was to his surroundings.

But Feyre didn’t linger on that thought as she looked up at Rhys’ questioning face. Again, her heart stumbled in its rhythm at the sight of him and she tried to force it to calm.

"Knowing you, you’re probably thinking that this is all because of you." She told him, playfully exasperated.

He didn’t miss a beat, eyes widening in surprise, mouth going mockingly slack. "It didn’t even cross my mind."

Feyre bit down on her bottom lip to stop the laugh that threatened to escape her. His eyes tracked the movement. "Good. Because you aren’t." She told him, even as heat flooded her at his gaze.

His expression turned serious; not hurt or angry, just intense in that usual way of his. "As long as you’re happy, Feyre."

And she remembered his words from the night before. Again, tears pricked at her eyes and she looked at their three friends moving ahead. "Yeah, I am." She replied, softly.

"Good." Rhys replied, his voice equally soft. "That's all I want."


	4. Chapter 4

They spent the rest of the day in their dorm room. With Feyre crammed on her bed with Cassian splayed next to her, Rhys lounging at the desk like a king on his throne and Azriel’s long legs stretched out between the two beds with his back propped against Mor’s bed. Mor herself was lying on her back, legs up against the wall and golden hair tumbling down the edge of the bed, right beside Azriel’s dark shoulder.

She had been toying with her phone, grinning and typing while biting her lip.

Cassian had been poking and prodding Feyre, as she tried to read the last couple of pages to finish her assignment. Rhys and Azriel were having a debate about ethics and Feyre was half paying attention to that because their arguments might come in handy in class.

But Cassian had been trying to get her to stop working and tell her who Mor was texting.

After what felt like an eternity and a poke that Feyre was sure might leave a bruise, she turned to face Cassian and rolled her eyes. "Why don’t you just ask her?"

"Because she won’t tell me. She’s probably afraid, I’ll sweep the girl off her feet before she can."

Mor snorted loudly at that and looked at them. With her head upside down, her smirk looked more malicious than she had intended. "She’s not into guys, Cass. And even if she were, you’re no competition."

Cassian snorted back at that. "Feyre, tell Mor that I am _indeed_ competition."

Feyre rolled her eyes again, looking at Azriel and Rhys for help, but both of them pointedly ignored what was sure to be the next pissing contest between their two friends.

"I’m not getting in the middle of this."

But Mor’s eyes gleamed at the challenge and she flipped onto her back. "I have an idea."

"Oh no." Feyre muttered, unable to stop herself.

But Cassian was grinning at the tone. "I’m listening."

Mor gave them a look that told Feyre that she wouldn’t be able to get out of this one. "With Feyre being newly single, I propose a challenge."

"Oh no." Feyre said again, slamming her book shut and sitting up.

"What do you propose, Morrigan?" Cassian asked, cracking his knuckles.

"You and I will use our charms — or whatever it is you have — on Feyre and see who gets her flustered first."

Feyre threw her hands up and sighed deeply. "Why me? Az is single, too."

Azriel stopped talking at the mention of his name, but Mor patted his shoulder comfortingly. "As much as I think I would be able to work my magic on anyone, both Cassian and I want to match our skills in wooing girls, don’t we Cass?"

Cassian just nodded. "Also, Azriel is notoriously hard to woo. And you have a tell, Feyre darling." Cassian drawled and Feyre tried not to squirm at the nickname.

Mor let out a laugh. "Exactly."

Feyre leaned back against the wall, recognising the look in her friends eyes. She shrugged and muttered, "Fine."

"What are the rules?" Azriel asked.

"No touching." Mor said, immediately and Cassian snorted. "Done. No using information that isn’t common knowledge between our group. With you being roommates, Feyre might have told you all her dirty little secrets."

Feyre threw him a scalding look and he raised his hands in defence. "At least we all know that you like getting busy in showers." He winked and Feyre threw her pillow at him.

"What else?" Azriel asked and Feyre realised that Rhys was suspiciously silent during this discussion. She avoided looking at him.

"No, cheap tricks." She said, fixing Cassian with a stern look that silently added: no using nicknames coined by other people.

He gave her a wolfish grin, but nodded. "Fair enough."

Azriel sat up straighter. "I’m in."

Cassian, Mor and Feyre gaped at him. But he just shrugged and gave Feyre a disarming grin.

"I’ll be the judge then." Rhys said, with a grin of his own and Feyre knew that this was going to be the death of her.

"You guys are the worst." She muttered, lying back on her bed and pressing her face into her pillow. "I don’t know why I even bother with you guys." Her voice was muffled by the pillow, but they still heard her.

Cassian gently patted her her back and replied, "Because you love us."

She huffed a breath, but didn’t look up.

—

Mor and Cassian bickered over the rules for a solid hour.

Feyre was sure that by the end of it, her cheeks and ears were stained a deep shade of red. But her friends discussed the rules of their little challenge as if she wasn’t sitting right next to them.

Azriel joined in, deciding when and where they would test their abilities and Feyre tried to desperately finish her homework.

She had gotten a couple of texts during the hour. At first, she had ignored the buzzing of her phone, but when a few dozen texts had arrived one after another and the sound had become too annoying to ignore, she had given in.

As expected, it was Tamlin.

She let her eyes drift over the first few texts. The first one asked if she was sober enough to talk. The second told her that he was sorry. The third asked if she wanted to meet up and talk. The fourth told her to stop acting like a child and ignoring him.

She didn’t read the fifth.

Instead, she turned off her phone and threw it across the bed, gritting her teeth and exhaling through her nose.

It was then that she realised that the room had gone silent.

She looked up to find her friends looking at her. And somehow, her own eyes sought Rhys’.

There was something unreadable in his expression and it soothed the anger that had been bubbling up inside her at Tamlin’s messages.

She let out a deep sigh and flopped onto her back, brushing against Cassian. "So, when are we going to do this thing?"

That seemed to ease the tension and Mor chirped, "Tomorrow. It would be unfair to rob Cassian of his time to properly prepare himself. I’d suggest taking a shower, first. Then picking up appropriate clothes." She added, flashing him a devilish smirk.

Cassian just flipped her off, chuckling darkly. "And you might want to learn to keep some thoughts to yourself."

They stared at each other threateningly, their lips shaking as they tried to keep themselves from laughing, until Azriel let out a long, heavy sigh. "Tomorrow, it is."

—

They decided to order pizza when Mor’s stomach had growled so loudly that everyone on their floor would have been able to hear it.

Cassian had requested Hawaiian and Feyre had broken her stilted silence to argue point blank that if a pizza topped with pineapple entered her room, she would never ever talk to him again.

He had replied with a hopeful pout, asking what topping could possibly be better?

"Let’s just get tuna, then." Rhys managed to throw in before Feyre could reply.

But then Mor was protesting loudly. "Ugh, no dead fishes either."

The bickering that ensued last long enough for Azriel to suggest Chinese food and all of them agreed- eventually.

Feeling a little restless, Feyre volunteered to pick up the food from their favourite place, since they had stopped delivering to the dorms after a particularly messy incident.

When Rhys got up, telling her that he would join, she couldn’t decide if the emotions coursing through her were nervousness or something else.

They made their way out of the building, the sun setting, lighting the campus in soft shades of pinks and purples.

They had barely taken a few steps out of the buildings shade, when a figure approached them. Her stomach dropped at the sight of the blonde hair and broad shoulders.

She froze and Rhys followed suit. They were so close that their arms were brushing and Feyre was immensely grateful for that.

"Feyre." Tamlin said, his voice rough and eyes glinting as he took in the sight of them standing there together.

"Hello, Tamlin." Rhys greeted him and despite the forceful calm, Feyre could feel the temper beneath it. She reacted instinctively, brushing her hand against Rhys’ arm to pull him back.

Of course, Tamlin noted the touch and a low snarl ripped from him. "Is that why you haven’t replied to my messages all day?"

"No." Feyre pressed back, taking a step towards him, effectively placing herself between the two men. "I didn’t reply because I already told you everything I had to say."

"So, what? I get mad once and you give up on us?" Tamlin asked, his voice going dangerously low. "And for what? For him?"

"Once?" Feyre asked, brows lifting, heart hammering in her chest. She ignored the last part. This wasn’t the first time Tamlin had accused her of cheating and she wouldn’t indulge him. Not right now, not ever. "You think this is _just_ about last night?"

At his silence, Feyre let out a unamused chuckle. "We don’t work, Tamlin. All we do is fight and you keep treating me like a child."

"Then stop acting like one." Tamlin hissed, interrupting her.

Feyre’s spine straightened. "Well, me breaking up with you is me not acting like a child. So, leave."

Feyre reached back to pull Rhys by his arm and began walking away. She managed a couple of steps, when Rhys stopped suddenly. "I wouldn’t do that if I were you." He said, his voice low, dangerous.

Feyre whirled around, seeing that Tamlin had closed the distance between them and was only a few inches away from her.

"This is none of your business." Tamlin hissed at him, stepping around Rhys and reaching for Feyre. "This is between me and my girlfriend."

Feyre flinched, stumbling back, effectively putting Rhys between her and Tamlin.

"Touch her and I’ll break your hand." Rhys said.

A shiver went down Feyre’s spine at the threat and she knew that Tamlin would never be able to walk away from a threat like that.

"I’m done with you, Tamlin." Feyre said, suddenly feeling very exhausted. "For good."

Emboldened by the knowledge that Rhys was between them, Feyre turned and began walking again.

After a couple of steps, she felt Rhys’ warmth at her back and then he was beside her again. "Are you okay?"

She sighed, deeply. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just exhausted."

Rhys gently took her hand in his and when she didn’t jerk it away, he entwined their fingers, squeezing softly. The touch seemed so say _I’m here for you, I understand_ and warmth flooded her stomach at that.

They walked like that, hands entwined and silent, to pick up the food for their friends.

And Feyre stopped thinking about Tamlin and started thinking about the callouses scraping against her skin.

A small smile bloomed on her face and when she snuck a gaze to Rhys’ face, she saw that it was mirrored there.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: *shows up 8 months late with starbucks and an update*
> 
> I said this was supposed to be 5 parts, but this stupid game turned out to be a bit longer than expected, so I'm posting it in a couple parts because no one wants a chapter that just as long as the rest of the fic, right?
> 
> aways, here's the first part.
> 
> again, sorry for this huge delay (can you even call it a delay anymore?). I hope you like it and want to read the rest of the story!

Feyre woke up to someone pounding on their door.

With a groan, she opened her eyes just in time to see Mor turn onto her stomach and bury her head under her pillow.

Sighing, Feyre pushed her own covers aside and got up.

"Wake up!" Cassian howled from outside and Feyre almost turned back around and slipped back into bed. Yet, he kept on pounding the door and for a brief moment she was concerned he might manage to knock it down.

Mor was grumbling something that she couldn’t make out as Feyre opened the door.

Cassian stood before her, clutching a to-go cup and a brown paper bag in one hand, while the other had been raised to knock again. Immediately, his hand dropped.

"Here you go, sweetheart." He said, flashing her his most charming grin.

At his honeyed voice, Mor sat up. She fixed them with a stern look, pointing a manicured finger at Cassian. "No bribes!"

Feyre took the offered breakfast with a small smile and muttered thanks. "I won’t make it that easy for him, don’t worry." She told her roommate and went back to plop down on her bed.

Cassian entered the room, his hands now cupping the back of his neck and a shit-eating grin on his face. "Oh, but I’m just getting started."

Azriel and Rhys were hot oh his heels and Feyre tried hard not to let her eyes linger on Rhys as he closed the door behind him and Azriel sat down next to Mor, who was running her hands through her hair and yawning loudly.

"What time is it, anyways?" She grumbled and leaned her head on Az’s shoulder.

"It’s almost noon, cousin." Rhys smoothly said, sliding into the chair and letting himself fall against the mountain of discarded clothes that were slung over its back.

Cassian stood in the middle of the room and spun slightly to look at Feyre. "Aren’t you going to eat it?"

She frowned at his eager expression but slowly opened the bag and peered inside. A small gasp escaped her as the warm buttery smell of the chocolate croissant wafted up her nose. 

"Mmmmh" She hummed, her smile growing.

"Stop that." Mor said, one eye still closed and the other looking at her threateningly.

But Feyre ignored her, taking a bite and barely managing to swallow her moan of delight.

Cassian grinned, as if he had already won the game. Then, looking at Mor in her pyjamas and messy hair, he clapped his hands together and said, "Alright, let’s go."

—

The boys left to wait outside while Feyre and Mor got dressed.

And while Feyre just pulled on her most comfortable pair of jeans and a Prythian U sweater that had seen better days, Mor stood by her dresser and sighed dramatically.

"What is it?" Feyre asked, even as she scratched at a bit of splattered pain on the sleeve of her sweater.

"I know that blue is your favourite colour, but I really do look good in red."

Feyre couldn’t help but chuckle at that. "Mor, the goal isn’t for me to fall in love with you. You’re supposed to get me flustered."

"Yeah." Mor nodded, looking over her shoulder. "Don’t act like you’re above appreciating a good looking outfit."

Feyre rolled her eyes, then took a sip from the coffee Cassian had brought her. Mor made a face at that and pointed towards the door. "Why don’t you go join them, while I get ready?"

Humming into her cup, Feyre slipped out of the room and down the hall to meet up with Cassian, Az and Rhys.

"Wow, you shouldn’t have dressed up for me, sweetheart." Cassian drawled at the sight of her messy bun, her faded jeans and the paint-splattered sweater.

Feyre ignored him, drinking more coffee and then saying, "Mor needs a bit longer."

Azriel snorted at that. While Cassian groaned, "Let’s hope she doesn’t put on a ball gown or something."

And even as he said it, Feyre noted that he had dressed up a bit more nicely, too. Not that he didn’t usually look good, but he was wearing dark jeans, and a white shirt that fit a bit too tightly around all of his muscles.

And as soon as he noted her look, Cassian flexed, the muscles in his torso rippling and bunching and Feyre couldn’t help but look, even as her mouth went a bit dry. Sure, he was fit. Maybe a little too fit, but what Feyre really wanted to do was get him to bend to his side and sketch the lines of his body in motion.

"My eyes are up here." Cassian said after a few moments.

Feyre’s eyes indeed shot up to his face, then she snorted. "I’d rather look at your abs, Cass. At least that way I don’t have to see your mouth moving and creating all those damn remarks."

A loud pearl of laughter answered that.

It came from behind Feyre, and when she looked over her shoulder, she couldn’t help but feel entirely out of her depth.

Mor had picked red.

Of course she had.

And she was right, she did look good in it.

A tight, off-shoulder crop top that left a bit of tanned skin exposed between the hem and the high waisted jeans she wore. And she had done something to her chest. Her collarbones seemed to be glittering even under the terrible fluorescent lights of the hallway.

"Overkill." Cassian muttered from behind her.

Feyre had to agree, even though the outfit had its desired effect.

"I’m ready." Mor announced, giving Feyre a coy smile.

"Good." Rhys said, his voice filled with amusement. "Then, let’s go."

Feyre snuck a glance at him and found him already watching. Behind the amusement, there was something soft in his eyes.

And Feyre noted that despite Mor’s and Cassian’s efforts of dressing up, the sight of Rhys in a dark blue shirt, with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows, did more for her than the both of them combined.

She was so screwed.

—

They went to Rita’s.

Feyre had never been there on a Sunday, especially not at noon.

There were only a few people milling around, most of them clearly hungover. Feyre had never known that during the day, Rita’s offered food. Well, it wasn’t anything like Sevenda’s, but fries and hamburgers was a step up from eating ramen out of a plastic cup in your dorm and feeling sorry for yourself.

They found a small square table in the far corner of the hall, that seemed so empty without the mass of people dry-humping on the dance floor.

Cassian gestured for Feyre to sit down and even as she did so, the others remained standing. She couldn’t help it when she began picking at the dried paint splatters on her sleeve again. She was getting nervous, mostly because the others stood while she sat.

"So, I think we shouldn't be within earshot while taking turns," said Mor. "That way, some big mouth can’t interfere."

She shot Cassian a glare as she said so and Azriel nodded in agreement. Cassian glared at the both of them, but nodded.

"Rhys you sit down, too, you’re the judge." Cassian ordered and Rhys smoothly sat down at the table.  He left the seat opposite her empty for the contestants. Feyre began tapping her foot against the floor as Azriel dug out a notebook and pen and handed it over to Rhys.

"Seriously?" Feyre asked, raising a brow. "If you’re going to be this meticulous, you should probably randomly select the order of who goes when as well."

"That was the idea." Azriel said, his face completely blank. Then he pulled out a woollen hat from his bag and held it towards Feyre.

She looked inside, and snorted at the three pieces of folded up paper in it. "Oh god, why are we doing this again?"

"Because Cassian and Mor are children." Rhys said smoothly and flashed a grin that sent a rush of heat up Feyre’s neck. She blindly reached for the hat and fished out the first piece of paper she found.

It was Cassian.

She groaned.

Mor huffed out a loud breath, but then said. "Pull out the next on."

Feyre did and held up the paper that read "Azriel".

Mor pursed her lips, but then she rolled her shoulders, threw her hair over her shoulder and nodded. "Alright, Az and I will be waiting at the bar."

And then they were gone.

But Cassian sat down across from Feyre and was giving her a smile that made Feyre want to fidget even more.

"So—" He started, his eyes darting to Rhys and quickly back to Feyre. "How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

Feyre was about to bite back a retort, but thought it would be unfair. She wouldn’t bite back with Mor or Azriel. So, she took a deep breath and said, "I’m fine, mostly. Kinda nervous, kinda weirded out by this whole idea."

Cassian’s smile widened. But it looked somehow gentle. Something she had seen him look like only a few times before. It made her instantly relax.

She noticed Rhys flipping open the notebook and grabbing the pen. Her eyes accidentally got caught on the way his long fingers curled around the pen and he began writing.

"I mean, I think this whole thing is a bit childish, but I don’t want Mor to think I’m not up for the challenge. I would have much rather spent the day in your room, watching a movie. Wouldn’t you?"

Feyre’s eyes snapped back to Cassian. And she nodded.

And then he said, his voice low and deep, "Have I ever told you, you have the most stunning eyes, Feyre?"

She kept looking at him. Her eyes darting over his face, trying to find the first flickers of this earnest, piercing mask flickering. But he was dead serious, no crinkle around his eyes, no twitch of his lips.

"No, I don’t think you have." She replied, her voice somehow quieter now. She bit her bottom lip, unable to look away from his eyes.

Only the scratching of pen and paper told her that Rhys wrote something down.

"Well, you do. Especially when you’re mad, they look icy blue. Somehow full of fire but also cold at the same time."

"Oh." Feyre breathed.

"It makes me wonder how they would look during sex."

"Cass!" Feyre yelled, leaning back in her chair and only then realising that in the last few moments, she had somehow leaned forward.

And finally, his the corner of his eyes crinkled and his lips pulled into a smirk. "Gotcha. Didn’t think you’d be that easy, Archeron."

"Wait, no!" She looked from Cassian to Rhys, only for him to nod. She told them both, "Oh, fuck off."

Rhys checked his watch, chuckling softly before writing something else down.

"That doesn’t count." Feyre protested, but Cassian was already getting to his feet.

"See you later, sweetheart."

Feyre crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at his retreating form. Rhys chuckled again. She turned to glare at him, too. "What?"

"Nothing." He said quickly, but still smiled widely. And when she raised her brow, he added, "He’s kind of right. They do turn icy when you’re mad."

Feyre looked away just in time to see Azriel arrive. He took in her body language and muttered, "I should have known going after Cassian would be bad for me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let me know if you're still interested
> 
> also if anyone wants to place any bets on how this thing will play out, now is your last chance.

**Author's Note:**

> feedback is always appreciated.  
> tumblr: @quakeriders


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